Noemi told her about the Franke property; about how Matthias inherited it alongside a small fortune after the tragedy. Emerynne now stands at its gate, glorying in the vivacity that the place radiates. She believes with all her heart that this is the wellspring of the summer magic that has taken Hallstatt, this is where the brightness and the warmth of the season comes from. She has wrongfully knighted him as the Frost Prince, when in fact, he is the Summer Prince. The childish concept brings a smile to her face.

Pushing her fantastical daydreams to the back of her mind, Emerynne lets herself in, filled again by the same anticipation she feels every time she sees Matthias. That rich sweetness still pervades the air, clinging to each breath as she alights the stairs to the house. The juvenile sense of apprehension and happiness that a schoolgirl has whenever confronted with her crush sets Emerynne's palms tingling when she rings his doorbell.

A tap on her shoulder makes her yelp. Swiveling, it takes her a moment to recognize the person as Matthias, standing there in a wide-brimmed hat, large sunglasses and an apron. "Oh, it's you." Emerynne exhales in relief. Composing herself, she says, "you startled me."

Sorry, Matthias signs, removing his glasses.

"No, it's okay." She speaks while signing as well. "Erika needs some things. Emergency order."

Surprise manifests on his face. You learned ÖSL?

Pleased with herself, Emerynne grins widely. She signs back: Noemi taught me.

Wow.

Transfixed by his milky blue eyes like always, Emerynne just about forgets everything else. Matthias has to raise his eyebrows inquisitively to actually make her realize that she has an excuse to be here. She coughs, holding out Erika's list to him. "Right, so the order. It's... uh, urgent," she says, trying not to scramble for words. "Lots of tourists, tea season, and all that..."

Matthias wipes his muddy hands on the hem of his apron, then takes the list from Emerynne, his fingers still leave stains on the paper. After quickly scrutinizing the page, he looks up and signs: this way.

He leaves the porch, going down the gravel walkway that arcs around the right side of the cottage; Emerynne hurries after him. They pass the garage, where she espies his pick-up parked and covered by a transparent tarp, beyond the glasshouse, and to a garden – if it can be called that – spread across most of the backyard. The gravel gives way to grassy paths twisting and wending around the bushes and brambles, the little circles of flowering plants, square patches of vegetable and herb farms – there's seemingly no order to the plot distribution, but the chaos, the verdant clutters, their racemes of blooms and fruits have a wild, untamed beauty to them all the same.

Matthias leads them to the left, at the east end of the property, into the shadow of a small copse of apricot trees. Laden in pinkish-white blossoms, they are indubitably the source of the sweet smell that perfumes the air here, seducing all pollinators. Beyond the apricot woods, giant pines claim the land like primordial gentries.

Matthias pats the top of a wrought-iron chair placed under the boughs of a young tree. Sit. Need anything while you wait?

"Thank you... Oh gosh, you're so kind," Emerynne cries, briefly taken aback by the shrillness of her own voice. Softer, she says, "but I'd like to help you assemble the order. It's a long list..." It is apparent that he will protest, but before he can, Emerynne persistently adjures, "I want to help. I want to know how you harvest, I want to see what you grow. I won't get in your way, I promise."

To top it all off, Emerynne signs: please?

With a slump of his shoulders and an indulgent smile that steals Emerynne's breath away, Matthias relents and waves her to come along. At the west end where Emerynne saw the glasshouse last time, she now notices there are two. Between them is a tiny wooden shed, which Matthias enters and returns from presently. He gives her a basket of assorted gardening tools and an apron. He motions for her to follow again, opening the doors to a glasshouse and going in.

Inside, the place is warmer and blanketed in all the hues of green that Emerynne knows, and some more. The apricot blossom aroma falls away to a crisp, earthy smell. In the middle of the glasshouse are two bathtubs repurposed into pots; one has tall grasses spilling over and the other carries lavenders, easily recognizable by their stalks crowned in purple buds and thin, fuzzy leaflets. Flowering climbers clamber all across the walls, curling around the wooden frames and the studs, leaves pressed to the glass and straining towards the sun.

Matthias grabs a cutter from a table and goes to the tub with the grass. He points at an item on the list, the East Indian lemongrass, thereafter putting the sheet into his apron's pocket and beckoning Emerynne over. Grabbing a fistful of the lemongrass, he snips it off using the cutters, then askingly inclines his head at her. 

"Mm-hmm," Emerynne hums. 

Proceeding, he shuffles through the bundle, plucking leaves that are dry, or rotting, and drops them back in the bathtub. He pauses and points at the basket hanging on her arm. Emerynne follows his finger to find another cutter like the one Matthias has. Pulling it out, she sets her basket down and joins him in harvesting.

There, cocooned in the citrine piquancy, in the company of Matthias, in the soft snip-snaps of the blades slicing through the thick grasses, in this languorous milieu, she soon loses herself. Merely being around this boy brings her so much happiness, so much peace – she relishes it.

In the couple hours that follow, they continue harvesting. Matthias teaches Emerynne how to carefully pick healthy peppermint runners and where to sever them. He then proudly shows her the wall of rosemary hedges he has grown, abloom and aromatic, telling her to cut branches with needles that cluster close to the flowers. His fondness towards his garden, his patience with her mistakes, his tolerance of her botanical ignorance, his peerlessly considerate demeanor, makes him all the more desirable to Emerynne.

When they hike up the hill behind his property, foraging for wild pansies in the knolls that separate boscages of conifers, Matthias offers her a steadying support. His warm fingers enclosed around her hand, she is tremendously aware of his heat, of how much larger his hand his compared to hers, of the firmness of his grip on her. Gallant as he is, he ensures she braces each foot in every step as they climb. And Emerynne's affection for him only increases, spreading as fast and strong as the rampant peppermint runners, an overgrowth in her veins and in her nerves.

The two come to a stop at a meadow teeming with heartsease bundles. Matthias releases her to kneel beside one of the herbs, showing her how to select and pluck the best flowers. Emerynne is attentive to his signing, she is attentive to his very presence. Sitting here in the lush meadow, surrounded by the vibrant plum and mauve and yellow blossoms, amidst flocking butterflies, he is as ethereal as a corporeal being can possibly be.

Summer Prince.

Emerynne romanticizes him. Excessively.

How can she not, when here he is – effortlessly perfect, outrageously enchanting? When here he is – warm as summer glow and just as sweet? Straight from a fantasy book written too well. A book one loses oneself in for hours on end and thinks about long after they have finished it. A book one cannot refrain from returning to every now and again.

Matthias tells her why these wild pansies are also called heartsease. Old cure for heartache. To ease the suffering of a broken heart. He hands her a flower, and gestures: heartsease.

Emerynne twirls the colorful bloom between her thumb and forefinger. Guided by something unknown, she stretches to him and sticks it in his fair hair, above his ear. "Heartsease," she repeats in a murmur. "Makes sense..."

Matthias reaches up, catching hold of her hand which still lingered near his hair. Emerynne inhales, her breath feels simultaneously shallow and thick. Swallowing her nervousness, she inches closer to him, gaze straying to his lips. When she meets his stare again, his eyes although icelike, are burning. They spark a fire low in her belly.

His mouth is so close, so very close. All she needs to do is move a little bit closer and she can steal the kiss that she has wanted for so long now.

Low, melancholic guitar strums overturn Emerynne's daze, followed by Kurt Cobain ironically singing 'Something In The Way'. Cursing, she snatches up her satchel from where she dropped it in the grass, digging through it and fishing out her phone. She studies the caller ID, then looks at Matthias and notifies, "it's my aunt."

"Hi, darling," Emerynne hears Erika say on the other end. "Did you get everything?"

"Yes." Gritting her teeth in annoyance, Emerynne asks, "is this why you called?"

"And to remind you to ask for baskets. That's really important."

Emerynne glances at the three wicker baskets full of wild pansy harvest; Matthias is sitting on his haunches a few feet away, picking more pansies to fill a fourth. "Yes," she finally says, "everything is in baskets."

"Okay, good. Are you done?"

Sighing, Emerynne replies, "yep... almost. Be there soon."

Going back to Matthias's side, Emerynne says, "I think this should be enough... Aunt Erika's getting restless."

Matthias bobs his head. Standing and dusting off his hands on his jeans, he requests: one moment.

"Sure."

He produces a small tube of medical grade sunscreen from his pocket. He applies it on his arms, his face, the nape of his neck, on any exposed skin. Capping the tube, he slips it back into his pocket. To Emerynne, he explains: the sun hurts.

She nods in understanding, remembering from her research of his conditions that the lack of melanin on his skin makes him exceedingly sensitive to sunlight. As magical as he may appear, he is only human – flawed and fragile.

They proceed to climb down the hill. Whatever transpired between them in the meadow, Emerynne is relieved to see that it does not make things awkward between them. Matthias is as thoughtful as always, holding her and helping her take measured steps along the slope. After they have weighed and packed the harvests, finished the transaction, he even offers to drop her at Esoteric Herbals.

Emerynne accepts. Anything to spend some more time with Matthias Franke.